


Night's cloak to hide me

by orphan_account



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dirty Talk, Embarrassment, Fluff, M/M, Mentions of rough sex, Rimming, Sensory Deprivation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-10
Updated: 2012-05-10
Packaged: 2017-11-05 03:21:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/401896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin finds it terribly embarrassing to talk about sex. After some research, he decides to try to do it in total darkness, whispering his fantasies into Arthur's ear as they lie cuddling in their bed after sex. He still finds it too difficult to talk about himself and Arthur, so instead he tells Arthur his fantasies of a young servant and a handsome Prince.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Night's cloak to hide me

"Tell me."

Merlin is silent, doesn't have the words to express what Arthur wants him to say or even to voice his own extreme unease. His skin is pale - even the smallest of changes to his mood register on it. Shame on this colossal scale is making him blush from the roots of his hair down to his chest. He's naked now, unprotected by the clothes that usually form his outer shell. He loops his arms around his legs and lean his forehead on bony knees, as if hiding his face will make him invisible.

"It's just that - Oh, it doesn't matter." his own voice is strange to him.

Arthur curls himself around Merlin, presses his nose against the crease where Merlin's flank ends and his thigh starts. He sniffs Merlin, burrows between the thigh and Merlin's stomach like a big dog until Merlin has to let go and unfold himself. He falls down on his back, surrendering his throat and stomach like a young wolf to its pack leader.

Arthur seizes the opportunity to crawl halfway on top of him, kissing his stomach tenderly while splaying his hands over Merlin's hips. Eventually he trails down to Merlin's groin, where he noses at the dark curls. He laughs. A breathless, loving sound. It makes Merlin's heart ache - the fact that this kind and gorgeous man wants to touch him. Wants to do more than that. _Has_ done much more than that since they tumbled into bed three hours ago. Now, they are both sated and tired, loose-limbed from love-making.

"I love smelling you." Arthur says, petting the dark hair gently, as if it's the most wonderful thing ever. "I love the way you smell." He rests his cheek on Merlin's belly, prompting Merlin to cradle his head and stroke his silky hair.

"I love your armpits, too." Arthur says quietly. Merlin blushes again. Arthur grins smugly. Merlin can't see his face, but he can feel Arthur's face rearranging itself slightly. After all of the years they have known each other, he knows the expression well enough. "See? I'm a colossal pervert. How could you possibly be any worse than me? What if I told you that I would like you not to shower for a _week_ , so that I could really smell you? Is that embarrassing and twisted enough for you to realise that you can say anything you like to me?"

Merlin wishes life was easier. Arthur has always taunted him about his shyness when it comes to talking about sex, and now their relationship has made it even more of an issue. He crawls down, pulling Arthur up, pushing him around a little to make a comfortable nest out of his strong body. Eventually, Merlin is lying on his back with his head on Arthur's arm, his knees bent over Arthur's legs. Arthur lies on his side, coiled round Merlin.

Merlin rests a hand on Arthur's ribs. Arthur is warm and solid, muscular but not chiselled. Merlin loves that about his body. That it is strong because it is in constant use, not because he spends mindless hours at the gym. There might be some extra flesh around his waist, but it only makes him more comfortable to cuddle.

"Can you turn off the lights, please?" Merlin still sounds much meeker than he ever does with his clothes on.

Arthur sighs. "Do I have to? I love watching you. It's not even late yet."

"I thought you wanted me to -- to _talk_. About-- you know. About, um -- _sex_ \-- and stuff."

Merlin is watching the ceiling, but he can still glimpse how Arthur stares at him, his mouth falling open.

"I've thought about it for weeks." Merlin whispers. "I read about it, and someone said that it would be easier if you turned off the lights and just whispered the things you wanted to say in your beloved's ear." His face feels as if it is a rather fetching shade of crimson.

Arthur kisses Merlin's cheek before moving away briefly to turn off the lights. For a moment there is complete darkness, until their eyes adapt. Merlin can make out the shape of Arthur. His pale shock of hair, the contours of his face. Arthur pulls up the duvet around them, closing out the winter evening.

Merlin can feel Arthur's breath against his neck. He closes his eyes. With the loss of sight comes a sharpening of his other senses. He can hear the wind outside, the funny little noises inside the walls, his own heartbeat. He can smell Arthur's smell, can smell freshly laundered bedlinen and the heady scent of sex. The darkness and the familiar smells and sounds comfort him. He feels like a bird in its nest. The presence of Arthur, the reassuring closeness of him without actually having to look into his eyes, makes Merlin relax. He'll always be safe in the warm haven of Arthur's arms.

He decides to start at the beginning.

"When I first saw you, I thought you had travelled through time." Merlin whispers. "I mean, I didn't know people actually re-enacted medieval battles. There was no-one else around with old clothes that I could see. Just you, standing by that meadow looking all knightly and handsome in your armour. I think I almost fell in love with you then and there, until you opened your mouth. If you hadn't spoken to me first, I would probably have approached you and offered to shelter you and teach you everything about the twenty-first century."

Arthur chuckles. They lie in silence for a minute, remembering how Arthur yelled at Merlin because he wasn't supposed to be on the battlefield. Somehow they ended up having lunch together a week later, when they met at the university library.

It is ten years ago now.

During eight of those years they have been friends, none of them daring to take the next step. The last two years they have been a couple. Tonight, they have been living together for five months, and it feels like the most natural thing in the world.

Merlin pets Arthur's chest, draws his fingers through the sparse hair. "You were so beautiful. You still are. All the times I was clumsy -- A lot of those times was just me being distracted by you. I really, really wanted you to do _things_ to me --" His voice falters and he has to swallow. His throat is parched.

"Like what?" Arthur's voice is crystal clear in the darkness. There is eagerness there, but he's obviously trying to keep it at bay. He places his hand over Merlin's hand, lacing their fingers together.

"Just silly fantasies. Nothing unbelievably perverted, I'm afraid." Merlin pauses for a moment, and he can sense Arthur smile. A light kiss is pressed to his cheek and Merlin cuddles up closer.

"Tell me." Arthur's voice is warm. Warm like his breath on Merlin's neck, warm like his naked body pressed to Merlin's side.

"I wanted you to take me in your arms. You could do it even if I pretended to protest, because you're much stronger than me. I wanted you to take me, to _carry_ me. And then I wanted you to throw me on your bed, or anywhere, anything horizontal, and -- Oh, _you know_." He puts an arm over his eyes, mortified.

"No. I don't know. What would I do to you once I had thrown you in my bed?"

"I think you would kiss me first. And then you would tell me that you had loved me secretly since we first met. And -- and, come to think of it -- why have you never kissed me wearing your chain mail?"

"I didn't think you liked me to do things to you in public."

"But I would. I would like all those women ogling you to know that you're _mine_."

"They would probably think it a bit weird. Especially if you were dressed up as my squire at the time."

"No. They would think it was _hot_. Gwen said it would be totally hot."

"You've asked _Gwen_?"

"No, she just told me, she said you looked like you wanted to drag me into the tent and have your wicked way with me. When we were at the Tewkesbury Medieval Festival last summer."

"I always want to fuck you right after fighting. It's a perfectly normal and natural reaction." Arthur's voice is husky and his arm tightens possessively around Merlin. 

Merlin laughs, embarrassed, and imagines what it would be like to have Arthur bending him over the low table in the tent and take him, still in his hauberk, still sweaty and high on adrenaline and testosterone. What it would be like to lie there, limp and conquered under a warrior, like loot. Like _booty_. Would Arthur put a gloved hand over his mouth to keep him from screaming from the rough fucking? He would get bruised from Arthur's hauberk, from the table, from Arthur biting into his neck. His arse would be sore and battered, and Arthur's come would leak from him afterwards. All of this as crowds of people had a perfectly lovely fake-medieval day just two metres and a barrier of fabric away.

"I know. I want that too." he says, fevered visions still filling his mind. "When I see you -- When you're all sweaty and determined and strong. All _warrior-like_ \-- God, Arthur. The things you do to me."

"Tell me. You still haven't told me what you wanted me to do to you in bed."

"I used to fantasise about you. About, oh, this is stupid -- I would fantasise about you being this strong and handsome Prince and me being your trusted servant. You would be really brave and fearless, and get wounded all the time. And then I would care for you, while you lay unconscious in my arms. Sometimes you would moan a lot, and say my name."

"Would you sneak a peek in my breeches?"

"No! No, you awful, unromantic dollophead. I would just tell you all the things that I would not dare to tell you when you were awake."

"Would the Prince take the servant to bed eventually?" Merlin imagines Arthur leering, lascivious bastard that he is.

"I had thousands of first-time scenarios." He doesn't tell Arthur how all of them were inspired by his mum's Mills and Boon novels. Merlin is starting to feel more comfortable about this, and he doesn't need Arthur to laugh too much at him. 

"What would the Prince do to his servant in bed?" Arthur punctuates his sentence with a kiss just below Merlin's ear, a kiss that ends in a gentle suck. Merlin can't help but moan a little, and when he speaks again, his voice is pitched higher.

"He would tear off the servant's clothes. When the servant was all naked, he would tell him that he was beautiful. He would kiss him. Kiss his mouth, his neck, his chest. All the way down-- To his-- oh, _you know_." He makes useless gestures with a hand. Arthur might be stifling a laugh.

"His toes?"

Merlin pushes at him. "His-- his cock, shaft, penis, _whatever_." He goes scarlet, but it's not so bad when Arthur cannot see him.

Arthur's warm hand travels down, his deft fingers playing with the soft curls just above the previously mentioned bit.

"And when he got there, he would take the servant's cock in his mouth and-- and he would _suck_ it. He likes doing that. He would moan when he did it. When his head was bobbing up and down and the servant gripped his hair as if he wanted to -- oh --" he swallows. "As if he wanted to -- _fuck_ \-- the Prince's mouth." Merlin goes silent, having to calm himself down.

It feels liberating to tell these things to Arthur, even if he's talking about the Prince and his servant rather than himself and Arthur. Even if it's nothing very dirty at all. Arthur goes down on Merlin all the time, and Merlin does it for Arthur pretty often, too, so it should not be absolutely mortifying for them to talk about it, really.

"The Prince would do that thing with his tongue, the thing he's so good at. It would make the servant forget his own name. He would get the servant to the brink of an orgasm, and stop. He would do that several times, until the servant felt like he would go mad. And then he would finally allow the servant to come. In his _mouth_. The Prince would swirl it around in his mouth and swallow it all, because he likes the servant's -- the servant's -- his _come_. He loves the taste of it. When he plundered the servant's mouth afterwards, the taste of it would still be on the Prince's tongue. But the Prince would not be satisfied. He would flip the servant over. He would kiss the servant's nape and back and his, _you know_ , his _arse_. He would part the servant's legs, hold him open with his large, calloused hands--"

The words have been flowing out of Merlin, but now he has to stop. Arthur will think him an idiot for being all uptight all these years and then suddenly letting going mad like this. But Arthur is quiet, his hand toying lazily with Merlin's pubic hair.

"What did the Prince do to his boy's pretty backside?" Arthur's voice is hot, dangerous.

"He would lick it. He would hold it open like a -- _cunt_ \-- and _lick_ it until the servant had to stifle his cries into the royal pillows. No-one has ever done anything like that to him, he doesn't even know that that part of his body could feel so good. He's a virgin. He's hardly been kissed before, and now there's this beautiful Prince licking his hole as if he's trying to devour it. He can't believe his luck, or at least he wouldn't believe it if he could think."

Arthur shifts a little, eases out from under Merlin and lies on his side, propped up on an elbow so that he's leaning over Merlin. His face is so close Merlin could almost kiss him. He radiates heat and lust, prickling Merlin's skin with his very presence.

"Tell me more." Arthur's voice is all sweet and dark now. He hovers over Merlin like a summer sky.

"The servant's a virgin, carefully brought up. He wouldn't know how men love each other. He's little more than a boy. But when the Prince licks him, it would feel so right. He would know it was his destiny. He would know he wanted anything the Prince would give him, that it was his duty and his birthright to lie before his Prince, all splayed open like -- like a _whore_. But he wouldn't be able to say it, because he would be too far gone for talking. So when the Prince would ask if he could get _inside_ him - the Prince inside the servant - when he would ask that, the servant would just say yes. Over and over again, rather loudly."

Arthur chuckles. His hand sweeps over Merlin's stomach before settling to stroke Merlin's nipples.

"The Prince would get a bottle of oil or something, and turn the servant so he was lying on his back. Because he wanted to see the servant's face when he -- when he came. No, wait. First he would undress, showing off his hot body. I can't believe he hadn't done that until now, but anyway. He would get the oil. He would oil a finger and press it slowly into the servant's hole."

"His tight, pink, virgin hole." Arthur adds, irreverent laughter hiding in his voice.

"That very same hole. And the servant would moan and gasp and be just a little bit shocked, because he would think it was dirty and unhygienic and sort of forbidden. But the Prince would just continue, moving it in and out. Caressing him."

"He would probably makes that slutty little virgin servant beg for another finger."

"Probably." Merlin smiles.

"The Prince is probably really good at this, and he would want to make it so good for the servant, because he loves him. And he would touch something inside the servant that--"

"Made him see stars!"

"Yeah, because he's a great lover, apart from being incredibly handsome."

"Did I mention he was a bit of a prat as well? Just let me get on with my story, OK?"

Arthur snorts with laughter.

"The Prince would fill the servant with two fingers, three fingers. Scissoring them, stretching him open while the servant thrashed and moaned under him. When the servant begged for more, begged to be -- _filled_ , the Prince would take the servant's hand and put it round his cock. He would ask the servant if that was the thing he wanted inside his body. And it would be, even if it seems impossible that it would fit. The servant would want it even if it hurt. At that moment he would want all sort of things-- things which he couldn't even understand. The Prince wouldn't need more convincing, he would prepare himself and start to push into the servant."

"Are you promoting unsafe sex?" Arthur exclaims, petulantly.

"They didn't have condoms in the middle ages. _You_ of all people should know that." The interruption disturbs Merlin.

"Poor little servant. If the Prince has had so much experience, he's probably rife with disease."

"It's a _fantasy_ , Arthur. In my fantasy STDs don't exist." Merlin prods Arthur's ribs with a sharp finger. 

And he continues: "So the Prince would bury himself to the hilt inside the servant. It would hurt, but even the hurt would be good, and the Prince would start -- _fucking_ \-- him in earnest. Good, long strokes, touching that sweet spot inside the servant. And the servant would think that this must be what heaven would be like, having this handsome Prince doing indecent things to him and feeling as if he might burst from pleasure. When the Prince started pumping the servant's cock, the servant would come almost immediately, shouting the Prince's name. The Prince would come, too. He would have this funny look in his face when he did, but he would still be gorgeous. They would lie there, afterwards, kissing and whispering sweet things to each other, and the Prince would look sexy as hell, sprawled there with his hair sweaty and dishevelled and his cheeks all pink. They would lie there until they had to move, because there was a cold, wet spot under them."

Merlin feels strange. It feels indecent to tell Arthur dirty things under the cover of darkness, but it feels indecent in a good way. Arthur's mouth on his neck distracts him from saying anything else in a while.

"Merlin?" Arthur's voice brings Merlin back to reality.

"Yes?"

"I liked your story. It made me think about something. This bed is rather boring. Couldn't we get a four-poster one? I feel we deserve a bed fit for a Prince. I mean, I could put on my hauberk and kidnap you and bring you to my bed and ravish you thoroughly. I could tie you up, and fuck you until you couldn't walk for a week if that's what you want. A fourposter would be more useful for that."

Arthur's voice has that interesting spaced-out quality that usually only occurs when he is drunk and it's very late, and he is full of brilliant ideas.

"You're weird. Do you have any idea how much that would cost?"

"Not really. But I'm pretty sure we could afford it. It could be my wedding present for you." Arthur's voice is slightly teasing.

"I didn't know we were planning to get married."

"I was meaning to ask you tonight. What did you think the nice dinner and flowers and everything was in aid of?"

"Oh. I assumed you had done something bad and wanted to smooth it over."

He feels Arthur shaking him off gently and sitting up.

"I need to turn on the lights for a moment, so you better close your eyes." Arthur's voice is mysterious.

Merlin nods and crawls down under the duvet, covering his eyes with both hands. He hears the clicking of the lamp on the bedside table, then the sound of Arthur rummaging through his clothes, all of which are lying on the floor. After a moment he makes a little grunt, which suggests he has found what he was looking for. The lamp clicks again, and Arthur pulls down the covers. He crawls down by Merlin's side before pulling the duvet over both of them.

Arthur takes Merlin's hand. His thumb sweeps comforting little circles on Merlin's skin.

"Merlin?"

"Yes?"

"I wanted to ask you if you wanted to -- If you wanted to do me the honour of -- Oh, to hell with it. Do you want to marry me? I mean, I know I can be a prat, but I'm _your_ prat. And I can make you happy. You make me happy. So, do you want to, or not?" His tone ends up slightly challenging, and not really romantic.

Merlin puts a hand on Arthur's unseen cheek. Despite his clumsiness he manages to avoid sticking fingers into Arthur's eyes or nose.

"I would love to."

Arthur bursts out into a relieved laugh, that funny high-pitched sound he makes when something dreadful turns out pretty OK. He is still laughing when Merlin angles in for a kiss, and the sound turns into a happy humming sort of noise. Somehow Merlin ends up straddling him, holding his face and kissing him. After what might be a minute or half an hour, Arthur breaks away.

"Wait. Don't you want the ring? Oh, no. I've lost it again. It has to be somewhere in the bed." He squirms around a little before finding it. He takes Merlin's hand and slides the ring onto his finger. It fits perfectly.

Merlin blushes and touches the ring. It is smooth and undecorated, but there is a ridge in it. It is narrower than the two that Arthur wear, but grabbing Arthur's hand to compare them, the similarity is striking.

"Do you like it?"

"I haven't actually seen it, but it feels perfect. Why didn't you propose after dinner?"

"I lost my nerve." Arthur sounds irritated. He doesn't like to seem insecure.

"It's easier like this, isn't it?" Merlin locks his arms around Arthur's neck.

Arthur nods, appeased. "We should do this again."

"Every night." Merlin whispers.

"I would love dirty bedtime stories about the Prince and his servant. Maybe you could tell me the one about the first time the servant fucked the Prince." There is something soft, something giving, in Arthur's voice.

Merlin feels his heart beating faster. He can hardly breathe. His sneaky blood takes the opportunity to begin a southward migration.

"Would the Prince like that? Would he trust his servant to take proper care of the royal backside?" Merlin's voice is a little shaky.

It takes a moment for Arthur to reply. "The Prince would love that. He's a total slut for the servant, but he might be slightly worried that the servant would think less of him if he submitted. He seems to think that the servant wants him to be this big manly man all the time. He also seems to think that the servant loves being fucked and perhaps wouldn't like to change places."

Merlin smiles and hugs Arthur as close as he can. "The servant loves his Prince with all of his heart. He would never think less of him for wanting a nice, big cock. In fact, I think the servant might have been fantasising about that some times. About having his muscular, manly Prince on his hands and knees, begging to be-- uh. To be _stuffed_."

" _Really?_ " Arthur's voice is boyish in its eagerness.

"Yeah."

"Then maybe, you could tell me that story tonight." He combs his fingers through Merlin's hair, and his voice falls to a whisper. "You know that the Prince loves his servant, don't you? Even if he's a cabbage-head and a prat."

"I know."

Arthur rubs his nose against Merlin's. " _Idiot._ " There is relief in his voice, and a trembling vulnerability.

Merlin smiles. " _Clodpole._ " he says, before kissing Arthur.


End file.
